


News Flash

by trillingstar



Series: Forest!Verse [4]
Category: Oz (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Community: hardtime100, Explicit Language, Flash Fic, Gen, Internal Monologue, Memories, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-09-11
Updated: 2011-09-11
Packaged: 2017-10-23 21:37:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 954
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/255260
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trillingstar/pseuds/trillingstar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An old school pal, Ronnie Barlog, learns that Keller's been arrested.<br/></p>
            </blockquote>





	News Flash

**Author's Note:**

> Written for #2: Storytelling; Ronnie Barlog.  
> Word count: ~950.  
> 

  
I don't watch the news; I got enough in my life that's depressing, so I don't need more. I stopped right after they started surprising us with those retarded feel-good stories like blind kids giving away kittens or some bullshit like that. But I was at Rick's, 'cause the Giants were playing and they got a draft special on game nights.

Anyway during one of the commercial breaks, there was this on the hour news flash. I heard the name Chris Keller and I dragged my nose outta my beer to hear the rest, but all they did was flash his mugshot on the screen, say he's bein' held for questioning, and then promise more news at eleven. Couldn't even watch the game after that. I hadn't heard that name in three or four years, but yeah, he wasn't somebody you'd forget. Plus it was a little more personal, for me.

Me an' Keller used to run together, he had my back and I had his. He always came up with these wild ideas and I don't know, I got dragged in too, because I never could say no to that fucker. It wasn't ever anything like that, don't even think it. Okay, maybe a couple times when we were so fuckin' high it felt like we had wings, bullet-proof, you know? But I ain't like that. I do what I have to do, and it was Keller who taught me that.

Chris Keller, arrested in relation to a murder. Guess our time together at Hill School didn't take.

This was a while back, okay, a long while back, after my mom had to give me up, 'cause my dad left us high and dry. Cleaned out the bank accounts and hit the road, and my mom tried, she really did, I know that. It's such a bunch of bullshit, honest to God, 'cause she was working two jobs just trying to keep us going, and somehow that equals neglect.

I wasn't doin' much to stay outta trouble though, and after a couple nights spent in county lockup, she had to make this deal with the state to keep me outta the system. They sent me upstate to this experimental school. It was basically juvie, but classier. Nicer dormitories, better food. Teachers who gave a crap. The barbed wire fencing around the place kinda spoiled the view, but we could go pretty much anywhere on the grounds. It wasn't too bad and none of the kids were real headcases or psychos; we didn't get beaten or anything. There were even some different clubs and sports, shit like that.

Anyway, part of the deal was we had roommates. I guess in theory they were supposed to be our consciences or maybe it was just to draw some of the younger kids out. Once you got your roomie, that was that, until one or the other of you left, so you had to figure out how to get along. Actually it was kind of genius how they set it up, 'cause if you got into trouble, both you and your roommate got punished. Didn't matter in my case because Keller was the fucking slickest motherfucker I have ever had the pleasure of meeting, and no matter what kinda shit he pulled, there was always a real good reason for it. He could sell ice to Eskimos and chili pepper gum in Hell. The administrators at that place loved him and tell the truth I couldn't blame 'em.

Like I said, no homo shit, it's not like that, okay. I've always been pretty good at using a wink and a smile to skate by, and Keller, he was... well, I don't wanna say amazing, but he was damn good. We were, what, fifteen, sixteen years old, and already he knew how to grift like... hell, like Richard fucking Nixon hustled the American public. Yeah, I know, I was like two then, but I still remember that bitch Mrs Lorman making me rewrite my Government exam twice. Anyway, the best part of being on the receiving end of a Keller Special was that you never felt like you were getting fooled, and I watched a lot of people get fooled and walk away smiling. That, my friends, is a gift.

Keller flirted with everything that moved, like, a tree would shake its branches on a windy day, and he'd turn this megawatt smile on it like it'd just agreed to blow him. And when he talked to you, it was as though you were the only two people in the room. He acted like he needed to know what you was gonna say next so bad that he was droolin' for it. All that forceful attention centered on you? Yeah, you don't wanna give that up, and people felt compelled to give, forgive and let live with him.

To put it mildly, I was in awe, and I thanked God every day for pairing us up, 'cause I was there to learn. You know how kids go into juvie and come out criminals? Sorry, Hill School, but your alumni ain't no different, and after a couple of months I was running with a new gang, reaping the benefits every time I watched Keller work his magic.

So I wasn't worried about him. They'd never pin something clumsy like homicide on him. When Keller did something, he did it right, and I'd be fucked sideways if he hadn't already found a way to get himself sprung. Maybe I'd look Kitty up and give her a call, see if she knew where I could find my old pal. Bet he's got some big grift brewing, and baby, I want in.  



End file.
